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Like anybody else who’s spent a morning on the bathroom floor after a night at the bar, I’ve sworn off drinking countless times.

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This isn’t about what’s fair. It’s about what we can afford. And we can’t afford to pretend it’s fine that everything we do or think is somehow wrong. We can’t afford to act like it’s okay that “Girls can do anything!” got translated somewhere along the line into “Women must do everything.” We can’t afford to live lives we have to fool our own central nervous systems into tolerating.

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Losing substances that were my crutch for so long was sad, life-altering, and transformative. It also proved to me just how embedded alcohol and drugs were in my life.

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I want your eyes open and bright, not red-rimmed and disguised with a loopy smile. Not a body slumped on a couch and an arm draped heavy across my shoulders. Not a kiss you won’t remember, still wet on my lips.

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Just over six months ago, I did something I’d previously considered unthinkable.

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Since getting sober, divorcing my past and embracing the way of the universe I sometimes had to put my hand to my chest and check that my rock and roll heart was still beating.